


My Sister & My Lover

by samuelbyrnes



Series: Paul Rovia Appreciation Week 2019 [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Paul Rovia Appreciation Week, Paul Rovia Appreciation Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 16:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17853221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samuelbyrnes/pseuds/samuelbyrnes
Summary: Two relationships.For the Paul Rovia Appreciation Week 2019 over on Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to preemptively apologize for any future Paul Rovia Appreciation Week fics, because while I promised to try for fluff, we got more angst, and it feels like that might be the theme for this series of fics.
> 
> This one's put into two chapters: first, his (canon) relationship to Maggie and then his (not-so canon) relationship with Daryl. Hopefully, that translates here.

_My Sister_

If one were brave enough to ask Paul when he realized Maggie was like a sister to him, you likely wouldn't get an answer out of him. He would tilt his head and smile in that same disarming way and somehow manage to divert the conversation elsewhere with no one the wiser. Sometimes, he would answer in a vague sort of manner before making an excuse to walk away. Other times, he would bullshit an answer, then quickly and smoothly change the subject. The only people to ever get an honest answer out of him was Daryl, Aaron, or Tara. But even then, it took some time to get it out of him. Daryl was the first to get it out of Paul, after casually asking while sharing babysitting duties with him. 

"Far too late to turn back," Paul murmured, gently bouncing little Hershel Jr. in his arms, a soft sort of smile on his face. "She burrowed under my defenses, made herself at home, and I didn't even realize it until she put this little boy in my arms." He looked up at Daryl, eyes shining. "The second I held this little bundle in my arms, I knew I was in too deep. There's no turning back now and frankly, I don't want to." He looked back down at the baby bundle, a single tear falling. "I finally found a place, a _family_ to call home." 

Daryl looked a little uncomfortable, but he said nothing and Paul was grateful for it. It gave him time to compose himself, sniffing and wiping at his eyes while dancing around the room with the baby in his arms. He blinked rapidly, then looked at Daryl, head tilted. 

"When did you know?" he asked. 

Daryl blinked. "Beg pardon?" 

"When did you know Maggie was family?" Paul asked. 

Daryl opened his mouth, then closed it, brow furrowing in thought. It took the archer a while to answer and by then, Paul had made two more circuits around the room. He was halfway through a third one when Daryl finally spoke up, his words stilted and voice soft. 

"Thought we might-a had somethin', back at the prison," he murmured, "but then things fell apart, lost her Daddy an' then I lost Beth, her sister. Thought I could-a saved her, get them back together...but then she died soon as we found her again. Had t' carry her out, least so's Maggie could see her one last time; bury her body, y'know? She never got that with her Daddy. I blamed m'self fer the longest time 'bout that." He swallowed thickly, licking his lips. "I'd finally forgave m'self, listened to Maggie's pleadin' that it weren't m' fault Beth died. Was jus' gettin' that feelin' o' home back when we ran into Negan an' I fucked up again. Got Glenn killed, right in front o' her this time." 

He trails off then, head ducked and shoulders shaking. Immediately, Paul goes over to him, standing close, but not touching. He hears the muted sniffles and chews on his lower lip. He steps a little closer, ducking his head to look at Daryl. 

"You know, I'm pretty sure she doesn't blame you," he said softly. "I don't doubt she already told you that, probably many times." He quirks a smile when the other snorts wetly. "And if I know Maggie as well as I believe I do, then she's liable to sit you down and tell it to you again; over and over until you finally believe it yourself." 

"An' I'll keep tellin' ya until ya get tired o' hearin' it." 

They both startle at Maggie's voice, looking over to see her in the doorway. She's smiling, but there's a determined look in her eyes as she looks over the two of them. She then strides into the room, pulling them each into a tight hug, being mindful of Hershel when she reels Paul in. 

"Yer both my family," she said once she pulled back from them. "Ain't nothin' you can do to change that, so yer gonna have to get used to that one way or another." She smiled then, shoulders relaxing into a more friendly posture as she reached out to take Hershel from Paul. "Y'all been babysittin' long enough. I'm sure there's other things t' occupy yer time. Go on." 

Knowing better than to argue, they both nod and leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind them. Once outside, they go their separate ways, one sure and focused in his task while the other is more thoughtful and less focused. Knowing he'll be more or less useless, Daryl heads for Paul's trailor to try and make sense of his suddenly swirling mind.


	2. Chapter 2

_My Lover_

Intimacy of any kind was a rather foreign concept these days. Sure, Paul had a bit of a wild and reckless streak before everything fell apart, but after...after, he was more invested in surviving than warming someone's bed. In a way, he was relishing the freedom of being unattached, especially since his last relationship was sour almost from the start. He had absolutely no intention on repeating that mistake, so he focused on other things. He focused on finding somewhere safe enough to put his head down at night. He focused on finding food, water, and various other things useful to surviving the end of the world. He focused on finding other communities, ones willing to trade without issue or conflict. 

Some asshole named Negan and his merry band of Saviors kind of threw everything for a loop for a while. Paul focused all the more on finding whatever was needed to keep things on an even keel, or close enough to it. It was lonely and exhausting, but he pushed through it, telling himself he would be fine, that he didn't need anyone or anything. In his darker moments, he fled into the woods, feeling a bit of that old reckless streak shining through as he took down countless walkers, trying to force his mind to be calm. Trying to force unwanted emotions as far away as possible. 

And then he was chased by a leather-clad nightmare in a field over a truck full of supplies and his world went off-balance. Something about it felt different this time. Something about Alexandria and it's people sparked something within him. Something about it stirred feelings Paul thought he successfully pushed away, but apparently not far enough. He wasn't sure he liked it, but it felt good, in some weird way, to smile and flirt shamelessly after so long of holding it back. He kept it up even after he rescued Daryl from the Sanctuary, trying for a bit of normal to make the guy feel better. It was around then that something changed between them, something deeper growing in, but with the war going on, Paul brushed it aside, thinking nothing of it. He thought nothing of the casual touches they shared, the secret little smiles between them. He thought nothing of the way Daryl sometimes stuck close to him, gently head-butting his shoulder after a long day. He thought nothing of the way he would casually pet Daryl's hair whenever the archer put his head in his lap. Hell, he brushed aside the fact that they shared a bed after particularly awful skirmishes or simply because one of them needed the comfort. Maybe he should've known, should've seen it coming, but somehow, he found himself caught entirely off-guard. 

He finally caught on a few months after winning the war with the Saviors. He and Daryl were in the bathroom together, Paul gently washing blood and dirt out of the archer's hair. Idly, he wished the bathtub fit both of them so he could squeeze in behind Daryl and hold him close when it finally hit him. He froze, eyes widening as the past year suddenly flew by in his mind's eye. He tried to not overthink it, but it was too late. He'd somehow let his walls fall again and let someone else in without even thinking anything of it. It was a good feeling, but it still set off something small and scared deep inside himself. It trembled fiercely, whimpering softly, whispering that something would inevitably go wrong and he'd be stuck all over again. That, or right back to that great, yawning chasm that loneliness dug. He hadn't realized he was shaking and whimpering for real until he heard Daryl curse and water splashing. He couldn't help the flinch when Daryl put his hands on him, hating himself when he saw the way the archer's face shuttered, if only briefly. When Paul opened his mouth to apologize, Daryl shook his head. 

"Don't gotta apologize," he said. "I know what it's like." 

Paul's eyes darted down to Daryl's chest, mapping out the scars he could see before looking back up. He was still breathing too fast, his thoughts too quick to catch, fingers tingling with the threat of his panic to come rushing back. When Daryl reached out again, much slower this time, Paul didn't flinch; if anything, he leaned into the contact with a soft sigh. Somehow, they made it out of the bathroom and into the bedroom without incident. Paul sat on the bed without further prompting, watching as Daryl went over to the dresser and pulled a pair of boxers and a shirt on before turning and wandering back over to the bed. It took some poking and nudging, but Daryl eventually got himself and Paul horizontal and under the covers. They stared at each other for a while, Paul's panic slowly abating in the silence. He slowly moved his hand across the bed, meeting one of Daryl's and twining their fingers together. He exhaled a shaky breath, bringing their joined hands up to place a kiss on Daryl's hand, then letting them drop onto the mattress. Daryl hummed softly, wriggling around a little until their toes touched, knees bumping, smiling when Paul lets out a huff. 

"Y' pretend that ya got yer shit together," Daryl murmured, tugging their twined hand when the other lets out a small sound. "Ain't bad, jus' made me realize somethin'." He pauses, staring at their twined hands, flexing his fingers around Paul's. "All this time, it seems like all I got were bits an' pieces o' the real you; of Paul, not Jesus. Knew there was somethin' missin', but I couldn't figure it out. 'M thinkin' I know what that is, now." He looked at Paul then, a mix of emotions on his face. "I ain't gonna hurt ya, Paul, an' I ain't leavin'. It prob'bly sounds like bullshit, but I'll keep repeatin' it til y' believe me." He squeezes their fingers together briefly, squeezing again when Paul squeezes back. He smiles lightly. "'Sides, if anyone understands where yer comin' from, it's gonna be me." 

Paul lets out a laugh at that, squirming around enough to bump their foreheads together. 

"So long as you understand that I have things to work through," he mumbled, closing his eyes and sighing. "It's not going to be pretty or smooth sailing at all." 

Daryl hummed, appearing to think about it before saying, "Got all th' time in the world, Paul, an' I can be patient when I wanna." He releases Paul's hand and wraps his around the other's waist, pulling him close. He waits until Paul opens his eyes again to say anything else. "We'll help each other, since I got m' own issues t' work through. However it ends, we'll still have one another in the end." 

Paul snorted inelegantly. "That was almost poetic; one might even call it sappy," he teased. 

"Don't go ruinin' it," Daryl growled, squeezing Paul's side just to hear him laugh again. 

He tickled Paul until the other called mercy. Already, the heavy air in the room was lifting as Paul tried catching his breath. He exhaled and smiled at Daryl, snuggling in to get comfortable, then closing his eyes. 

"Thanks, Daryl," he mumbled. "For everything." 

Daryl grunted and didn't reply. Paul knew Daryl appreciated it, appreciated him, but it would take a while before he really believed that. But like Daryl said, they had time, and Paul was determined to use it to the best of his ability.


End file.
